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(April the giraffe better have her baby soon because I’m sick of hearing about it. The live stream shows up on my Facebook feed every couple of posts and I’m about to lose my mind. It’s even on the news! Drop that baby already, April! We’re all tired of staring at your backside.)

Ok, world, listen up, if I want a row of little tiny plastic pony shaped toys in colors not found in nature on my shelf then I will have a row of little tiny plastic pony shaped toys in colors not found in nature on my shelf and you standing there with a mean grin on yourself face asking me ‘My Little Pony is for kids, why do you have those’ like my fondness for lighthearted, fantasy based entertainment somehow makes me touched in the head or less of an adult just makes you look like a jackass.

Yes, I like kids stuff and I’ll thank you not to be a jerk about it.

Princess Luna is my favorite and is the best and most awesome.
Fight me if you don’t think so.

I also have some Harry Potter Funko Pops! and minis, some Disney Dorbz, some assorted mini figures,and a good sized collection of Marvel Avengers action figures, bobble heads, and Lego sets. And the aforementioned My Little Pony toys. Other odds and ends of the literary sort. I recently bought a set of The Man from Uncle 1960’s novels. I plan to collect all 23 of them. And a Totoro plush from my Hayao Miyazaki / Studio Ghibli phase. There is also a tub of anime DVD’s under my bed. Some Sailor Moon stuff.

And the point is, these things make me happy. I’m drawn to entertainment that is light, colorful, fantasy based, and escapist. I need them. Without them, life is dreary and monotonous. Dreadfully boring. Pressing, and not in a good way. I need that outlet. And what right does anyone have to decide my outlet is weird or not appropriate for my age? I find your scrapbooking (or whatever) boring but I’m not picking up your glue dots or paper strips and asking you why you waste so much money on this crap. Because it’s rude and mean.

Without that outlet, I could not see myself coping. (It would be interesting, and probably helpful and enlightening, to see how many people that are fans of such child aimed entertainment as MLP, fandom, and cosplay actually have some form of mental illness (fuck! I HATE those words) and are using those child aimed entertainment and geeky pursuits as a coping mechanism.) [I HATE the words ‘mental illness’. The social connotations around them make me feel like there is something wrong with me. There is nothing wrong with me. I am not broken. There is no need to look at me with pity when I get excited about a new Funko Pop! figure, My Little Pony movie, or Ever After High special. Fuck you very much.]

It also pisses me off that there seems to be a level of interest that is acceptable and a level of interest that is not acceptable. Like a measuring stick for your crazy. “I like Star Wars. I have all the movies.” – acceptable. “I like Star Wars. I went to a Con dressed as Rey.” – unacceptable. Personally, if you don’t love something enough to let it consume you, then you are weak. Weak!

Everyone has their coping mechanisms. Just because mine doesn’t involve stinking cigarettes, booze, or whatever sex filled murder TV show is currently occupying the evening time slots does not mean I’m immature or mentally deficient. Apparently, your coping mechanisms are only acceptable if you are killing yourself faster every time you use them. If a show or movie meets a certain standard; interesting plot, engaging characters, detailed world building, then the kid or adult status we label things with is just stupid. And there are bad kids TV shows, don’t get me wrong. Teen Titans was awesome. Teen Titans Go! makes me want to stab someone.

And don’t even start with me about girl verses boy TV shows. I will cut you.

And everyone loves Harry Potter. I don’t care who you are or how old you are. You love Harry Potter. You’ve seen the movies, you’ve read the books, and you are a fan of a child aimed story about magic and wizardery. You’ve taken the online “What House Am I?” quiz. I know you have. (I’m a Ravenclaw, by the way.) So don’t pretend you are the most adulty adult to ever adult in the world of adults because your pants are on fire. You love Harry Potter. If I want to put on a robe I made and take a wand to a midnight showing of Harry Potter whatever part, then that is my level of love for Harry Potter and you can keep your scorn and obnoxious false superiority to yourself.

So, next time you feel the need to make a comment on my Tardis keychain or pick up and fondle my Pikachu plush like it’s something exotic and new, know that you are a jerk and can shove it where the sun don’t shine. Your stuck up ‘adult’ judgment just makes you an ass. I love my toys and figures and dolls and DVD’s and Netflix queue filled with cartoons and fantasy shows and I have better things to do than pander to your stagnate idea of how an adult should act. I have an evil wizard to defeat with my lightsaber. So nah.